Be.
Thursday, 1. May 2008, 17:23:40
In the measure of a day,
the dire cries of an hour
fade in the next,
always remaining a part
of the next day’s planned survival.
Or life comes in fortuities
--unexpected, ecstatic—
and drags another day
on in its blood and need…
The cries continue.
Life,
in a hundred hungry faces--
black against the ivory skies,
is raw:
Raw in its failure to comprehend
the laws, faiths, philosophies,
justice and its blinded eyes.
These faces merely live and cry
out of stupid simple senses.
But us, we understand more, live less.
And life in war is raw--
fought
for each bread,
for each breath.
White flags are not edible.
In the candlelight a lifted hand
casts a shadow in the wall
--flickering, firm yet—
larger than our hands,
larger than us.
This is our God-- this hand
that craves on, and is
the darkest silhouette
in a world of feeble lights.
Don’t love. Simply be.
- Symphony
the dire cries of an hour
fade in the next,
always remaining a part
of the next day’s planned survival.
Or life comes in fortuities
--unexpected, ecstatic—
and drags another day
on in its blood and need…
The cries continue.
Life,
in a hundred hungry faces--
black against the ivory skies,
is raw:
Raw in its failure to comprehend
the laws, faiths, philosophies,
justice and its blinded eyes.
These faces merely live and cry
out of stupid simple senses.
But us, we understand more, live less.
And life in war is raw--
fought
for each bread,
for each breath.
White flags are not edible.
In the candlelight a lifted hand
casts a shadow in the wall
--flickering, firm yet—
larger than our hands,
larger than us.
This is our God-- this hand
that craves on, and is
the darkest silhouette
in a world of feeble lights.
Don’t love. Simply be.
- Symphony
Cant have a dorky blog which just rants on and on and on and (ad infinitum) in poems. I mean, what'll people think of me?! 
